


Three special children

by tangledupinmist



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 19:44:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13255323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangledupinmist/pseuds/tangledupinmist
Summary: Sister Julienne ponders about the Turner children and how they have become very special to her.





	Three special children

Three special children

This piece was inspired by a comment @poplarpatience made re a picture of Sister Julienne and baby Teddy from the 2017 Christmas Special. 

 

Children were the daily business of the nurses and Sisters of Nonnatus House. Everyday, they would bring babies into the world and tend to mothers and children during home visits and clinics. And every day, they would encounter those they had brought into the world on the streets of Poplar, growing into toddlers, school children and, eventually, young adults, ready to face the world.

Even though every child was a miracle in itself, each of the Nonnatuns had their favourite ones; Sister Julienne no exception. Of the many hundred babies whose births she had assisted with and the many children she had met through her work, there always were a few she kept in a special place within her heart. But there were three children that she favoured most among all others - the three Turner children. 

It was a cold December day, the afternoon light fading away into dusk. Sister Julienne sat down at her desk with a sigh. Not only were there the unusually harsh winter conditions making their lives and work more difficult. In addition, her visit to Mabel Tillerson had been emotionally draining and taken up several hours of her afternoon which Sister Julienne had planned to spend mostly at her desk. Of course, sitting with the older woman had been more important and she did not regret a minute of it, but right now she felt as if the burden of work on her shoulders become almost too heavy. Due to the holidays, there was quite a backlog of paperwork to be completed and she frowned at the huge pile of papers yet to deal with and the notes yet to be written before the impending end of the year.

With another sigh, Sister Julienne opened her ledger and reached for her pen but instead picked up the teacup she had placed at the edge of the desk. Her hands felt too cold to write properly and in an attempt to warm them, she put down the hot crockery before her and cradled it with her fingers. She smiled thinking of a day in autumn more than five years earlier when a teacup exactly like this one had been spilled on a page of the ledger for the year 1957. 

Sister Julienne had known Timothy Turner almost from the day he was born. Sister Evangelina had been the midwife present at his birth and responsible for home visits to baby and mother. She herself had occasionally carried out home visits at times Sister Evangelina was impeded due to other duties. 

Later, she had met mother and son during their visits to the clinic and the Turner family had been occasional guests at festivities at Nonnatus house. Furthermore, mother and son regularly attended church and church festivities. Dr. Turner was not a religious man but the Sisters never held it against him.

Sister Julienne had always enjoyed meeting Timothy. He was an intelligent and perceptive child who presented both in character and looks a perfect blend of his parents. Although caring for the sick and dying was another regular occupation of the Sisters, it had taken an especially hard toll on them to do so with Mrs. Turner. After all, the doctor was an esteemed colleague and everyone at Nonnatus House liked his cheerful wife. It broke everyone’s hearts to watch Marianne Turner lose the sparkle in her eyes and see the doctor grieve over his wife. And everyone felt even worse for little Timothy for his father, entangled within his own sadness, was unable to comfort the boy as much as it was necessary. 

When Mrs. Turner became bedridden the Sisters, mainly Sister Julienne and Sister Evangelina, carried out home visits at least twice daily. They would administer medicine and pray with the dying woman.

It hurt Sister Julienne every time she entered the Turner’s flat to see the terrified little boy, silently watching her every step with large, fear-filled eyes. She had sought advice from Sister Bernadette who had lost her mother at almost the same age on how best to approach the child. The younger Sister had suggested she take the boy’s fears seriously and talk to him during every visit, even if he might be at loss of words. Sister Bernadette said that at the time her own mother died, it had reassured her when adults let her know that was seen and that there were people she could turn to when her father had been too overrun by his grief.

During each visit Sister Julienne would therefore take some time to sit with Timothy, ask about his day, his activities and interests. It was evident to the Sisters how miserable Dr. Turner was at the time, though he tried hard to remain collected and professional in every situation. Even during the funeral he managed to keep his facade. Only once had Sister Julienne experienced him letting down his guard, much to her surprise.

It had been a dark November day and everyone was aware that by now every day might be Mrs. Turner’s last one. Sister Julienne had sat with the now mostly unconscious woman for a while and prayed for the Turners in silence. On her way out, she passed by the living room to say good-bye to Dr. Turner. When she arrived at the doorframe though, she stopped. Dr. Turner sat on the sofa, with his elbows on his legs and his face buried in his hands. His shoulders were shaking with silent sobs. 

Sister Julienne retreated quietly and approached the living room again, this time with louder steps and calling Dr. Turner’s name, assuming he would not want to see her in this state. She was therefore surprised that when she entered the room the doctor did not make any effort to conceal his state. He looked at hear, tears running down his face. 

“She is sleeping now, and I am about to leave for today. Sister Evangelina will be here in the morning, doctor”, Sister Julienne said quietly.   
“I don’t know how I can handle this. How am I to deal with the boy”? Dr. Turner had cried. “How can I replace his mother? How will he get through this? I cannot bear the burden myself, how on earth can I help him with his?” 

Sister Julienne felt tears brimming in her eye and swallowed hard to suppress them. She never had seen Dr. Turner overtaken by his emotions before and wanted to offer him her support. Tears would not do now. She sat down next to him, only to find herself at loss of words. She knew he did not believe in God and was not certain whether speaking of His plan for everyone might help the doctor right now. Eventually, she did because it was her belief and it was what Mrs. Turner believed, too.   
Her words and presence indeed seemed to calm the grieving husband eventually. After he had regained his posture he apologized for his behaviour which Sister Julienne only commented with a warm smile and a nod. He had all the right in the world to fall apart, she tought. She then offered Nonnatus House’s support with anything Dr. and Timothy Turner might need in the weeks and months to come. In particular, she suggested that he might send Timothy over whenever someone needed to watch the boy. 

During the initial weeks after Mrs. Turner’s funeral, Dr. Turner had seemed to be afraid to impose. Every time the Sisters reaffirmed their offer, he declined. But they kept inviting father and son for occasional meals and emphasized how much joy a visit of Timothy would mean to everyone at the convent. Eventually, they managed to convince the doctor that not only was the offer meant to relieve a burden on him, but also that it meant a welcome change to everyone present at Nonnatus House.   
Indeed, everyone was happy to think of activities to distract him and coax a smile out of the sad child. Mrs. B. enjoyed having someone else than Sister Monica Joan to spoil with cake and sweets and eagerly tried out new recipes to best match Timothy’s taste. Fred loved the boy’s company during all his undertakings, as his grandchildren lived far away. And the Sisters and nurses on call readily thought about activities to carry out with Timothy while spending time in hearing distance to the telephone.

Nurse Miller listened to the boy playing the piano and read history books with him. Chummy entertained Timothy with her stories from India and Sister Bernadette thought of scientific experiments or botanical riddles to keep him busy. 

To her regret, Sister Julienne only rarely found the time to sit with Timothy. She remembered one day she had asked him to help with bookkeeping since she knew that he was very good at maths. She had him sort through and hand her the receipts to be entered into the ledger and let him do the calculations. In between they had talked about Timothy’s recent biology lessons when the boy became so excited telling her about a recent unit about insects that he knocked over his tea cup and its contents spilled all over Sister Julienne’s ledger. 

Timothy had jumped up with a terrified look at his face and apologized several times. Sister Julienne, too, had jumped up, but quickly regained her posture and smiled at the boy’s frantic excuses. She had reassured him that this was nothing one could not fix and sent him to the kitchen to fetch a towel. 

She still smiled thinking about young Timothy’s terrified face and how far he had come since. Timothy, the Turner’s much-loved baby. Timothy, the sad young boy who grieved his mother. Timothy, the bright child that had bonded with Sister Bernadette that eventually would become his new mum. And now, too suddenly, it seemed, Timothy was a teenager at the brink of becoming an adult. He would soon go off to university. Hopefully, she would still be alive to witness him to come back and work alongside his father, Sister Julienne thought. Not that anything regarding his career had been decided, although everyone who knew him assumed that he was inclined to follow his father’s footsteps given his interest in science and his avid reading of medical journals and textbooks. 

That the boy had grown into such an amicable person was mainly the merit of his parents; both his birth mother and his stepmother as well as his father. Still, Sister Julienne prided herself in the fact that she and her fellow Sisters, too, had contributed to his development – even just a little bit. 

Sister Julienne took another sip from her now lukewarm tea when her lip brushed a small chip on the rim of her cup. She held the cup at eye level and inspected the little chip, barely visible. She smiled, remembering the day the chip had been caused by the second child she was more than fond of: little Angela Turner. Angela, whose middle name Julienne was a great honour to her. 

Before Shelagh had returned to nursing she had regularly visited Sister Julienne for tea. During one of these afternoons, it must have been early spring of 1960, Sister Julienne held Angela on her lap while talking to her friend. The women were not paying attention to baby Angela whose gesticulating little arms suddenly knocked over Sister Julienne’s tea cup. The empty cup flew against the teapot, causing the tiny chip. 

Sister Julienne loved Angela dearly because the girl had been bringing back joy and happiness to her dear friend. She had felt so very sad watching Shelagh struggle to finding her place in life throughout her first year of marriage. Even though it was obvious how much the Turners loved each other, it had taken them a while to find their pace as a married couple. What’s more, Shelagh found it very hard to come to terms with the fact that her desire for another child should remain unfulfilled. Only after baby Angela had joined the Turners, Shelagh had seemed mostly balanced again. 

Sister Julienne opened the top drawer of her desk and looked at the small framed photograph Nurse Crane had given her for Christmas, taken during the past summer fete. It showed Timothy standing next to Sister Julienne who held Angela in her arms. She smiled at the sight of the little girl. Sister Julienne hoped she would live long enough to see the dear girl grow into a young woman. Every time she watched the little girl she wondered whether Angela might become a similarly eager and studious young woman as her mother had once been. 

People not familiar with Angela’s birth story occasionally commented on the likeness between Mrs. Turner and her little daughter. Looking at the picture, Sister Julienne could tell where these observations came from. Many of Angela’s facial expressions were those of her mother and her sweet smile was no exception. In addition, the colour of her hair and her delicate statue also resembled Shelagh very much. 

Being the only girl among two brothers, she also got special attention from her proud father who, while loving all of his children dearly, clearly adored his daughter as much as he was devoted to her mother. 

Sister Julienne took another sip from her tea and grimaced because the liquid had become ice-cold. She remembered how yet another cup of tea had made her to be the first person to learn about Shelagh’s unexpected pregnancy when her friend had confessed how she could no longer stand the smell of milk when offered a cup of tea. 

Of all the hundreds of births midwives attend over the years, they will not remember every single one. Memories blend and overlay and eventually only those most difficult and those most beautiful will be retained. Sister Julienne would never forget births such as that of Jane Henderson, a girl much longed for by her mother who already had seven boys. Or that of Gareth Penney, a healthy boy, whose mother had suffered through three stillbirths before him. There were the twin girls born on an exceptionally warm Christmas eve. Or the tiny little but healthy boy born in a cubicle of the antenatal clinic because labour had progressed too quickly to get his mother to the maternity home. Or the precious boy born to a mother who had been told she would never have one, little Teddy Turner.  
Teddy’s birth had indeed been one of the most memorable births Sister Julienne would ever attend. This baby stood for beating nature’s odds and as an answer to numerous prayers. 

After many years of home visits around Poplar Sister Julienne was familiar with all possible kinds of relationships between men and women. While she had seen many a couple in love, she had rarely encountered a union such as that of the Turners. 

Given the Turners’ dedication to each other, Sister had hardly been surprised to meet Shelagh at the surgery earlier this afternoon, even though the younger woman had told her that she was not yet ready to get back to work only a few hours before. 

Sister Julienne had noticed very early into the couple’s marriage how much Dr. Turner depended on his wife, both as husband and as doctor with compassion for his patients but a clear lack of administration skills. 

When she had witnessed the doctor calling his wife over his inability to tackle the filing system that morning, Sister Julienne had initially disapproved. He of all people should be aware of the many strains put on her, she had thought. But then, after seeing Shelagh at her desk, vibrant as always, she understood that even with a new baby, a laundry bin brimming over with nappies and an uncooked dinner at home, Shelagh would never let down her husband because both cared as much about their patients as they did about their family. 

Sister Julienne had thus known better than to advise her friend to not overdo it so soon after giving birth. And then, many of the young mothers she encountered every day had to resume their tasks in caring for their large families within short time after giving birth rather than allowing themselves the amount of rest they deserved. Such were the conditions here in Poplar. 

Instead of scolding Shelagh, Sister Julienne had taken a moment to marvel at the sight of baby Teddy in his pram. She hoped she would be able to see Teddy grow into a boy and even a young man as long as she could, just as she wanted to see the other two Turner children grow up. Before Teddy’s arrival, Angela had been an occasional guest at Nonnatus house during the occasional days when Shelagh’s housekeeper was off and the surgery was too busy for her to keep an eye on the child.   
Now Angela was attending a nursery, which lifted a burden on Shelagh but also meant that Sister Julienne was seeing less of the girl than she used to. She wondered how Shelagh would now organize her life with a baby, her now bigger household and her work. Knowing Shelagh, Sister Julienne was certain that even though her friend had told her she would only help out at the surgery until the crisis had passed, Shelagh felt too strong a calling from her work to fully retreat to her home again, no matter how many tasks were waiting there for her. 

“Well, nothing for you to worry about now”, Sister Julienne scolded herself and absent-mindedly brought her teacup to her lips, only to notice that it was empty. And so was her ledger for the past month; very unusual for her she was quite behind with her end-of-year paperwork. Looking at the clock, she drew in a sharp breath. There were only 45 minutes left before evensong, meaning she would need to return to her desk after dinner if she ever wanted to reduce the pile of papers in front of her. 

She would, however, not leave out the extra minutes she spent in the chapel every day after evensong for saying a few special prayers, the prayers for the three children most dear to her heart.


End file.
